


liability

by thir13enth



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Post-Time Skip, and they keep bumping into each other, doing their own thing, idk inspiration hit me at a strange angle this time around, or something, where like they're both mercenaries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22425166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: Some things never change. Certainly not Leonie’s alcoholic tendencies, and certainly not Shamir’s commitment issues.
Relationships: Shamir Nevrand/Leonie Pinelli
Comments: 18
Kudos: 20
Collections: Those Who Drabble in the Dark





	1. partners, or something

**Author's Note:**

> wasn't really planning on making a multichap but i missed the TWDITD drabble last week, and in trying to think of two drabbles for this week to catch up, my brain put both prompts in the same universe. so. here's a double-issue for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt:** inn/tavern (500 words)
> 
> always gotta have that "stranger danger" trope in a tavern, you know what i mean?

Shamir always finds Leonie at the bar — piss-drunk and picking fights with people twice her size.

Even if she does win all the fights, she’s still stupid.

Emulating Jeralt was something Shamir thought Leonie would eventually quit, but even twenty years later and fully grown, Leonie _still_ makes choices in tribute to her childhood hero.

Again, stupid.

“Is that a challenge?” she snarls at the man sitting across the bar. She throws back her head, downing her drink, and slams the glass to the counter. Flushed from her many previous drinks, Leonie slips off the high barstool, off to face her self-proclaimed opponent.

He’s a clean-shaven, sharp-eyed man. Seems like a mercenary, but Shamir doesn’t recognize his armor or the insignia on his blade. Shamir sits back, watching intently.

“I’m serious,” he says as Leonie nears. “You win, then I pay your tab; I win, then you pay.”

Leonie nods, turning to the bartender. “Another round for us then!” After sizing the man up with her eyes, she adds, “And you know what — another round for everyone else, too! On me!”

The rest of the tavern cheers. The bartender looks more concerned than pleased about the business. “ _Leonie_ ,” he reminds her. “You know I still expect you to pay for all those tabs you opened last week!” He passes her another round, regardless.

She takes it, downing her shot and motioning to her opponent. “Yeah, yeah, tell _him_ how much I owe,” she declares, backing from the counter and beckoning him. The space around her clears — tables and chairs scooted out of the way. She rolls up her sleeves, quickly retying her hair into a high ponytail.

The man rolls off his barstool, getting into stance. “Kicks okay?”

Leonie shrugs, rolling her shoulder. “Kicks okay.”

This is when Shamir notices the fold of a hidden pocket on the man’s inner pantleg.

Shamir stands to her feet, pushing bodies out of the way as she moved from the far corner of the tavern to the cleared-out zone. She steps into the fight, positioning herself in front of Leonie.

Leonie sputters, surprised. “ _Sh-Shamir_? What the _hell_? What are you even doing here?”

“Saving your ass,” she replies.

“I’m fine!” Leonie retorts, moving her aside. “Let me fight!”

Shamir resists before delivering a quick blow, using the other arm to catch Leonie’s now-unconscious body. “We’re done here,” she tells the man.

He gives her nothing but a small smile, sitting back into a nearby barstool. Shamir decides she’ll wipe it from his face later.

First, to send Leonie to bed.

“How much for the night?” she asks the bartender. “Also, the alcohol?”

The bartender just looks at her, squinting while wiping a glass dry. “Weren’t you the one that paid for her the other week? What gives anyway?”

He never answered her question, so she just tosses a healthy amount of coins onto the counter. “Keep the change. I’m sure she’ll be back for more drinks.”

“Partners?”

“Something like that.”


	2. again, stupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt:** misunderstandings/miscommunication from TWDITD. (200-600 words) 
> 
> lord knows I took as much advantage of that extra 100 words as i could

With Leonie hoisted over her shoulders, Shamir kicks the inn door open, leading to a room with nothing but well-worn bed. The bed doesn’t look comfortable but it’s probably better than what Leonie’s slept on for the past few nights, especially given her budget — limited by alcohol.

Stupid.

Shamir had warned Leonie about the instability of mercenary work — even Shamir finds it hard to make ends to meet. Ever since the Adrestian Empire was reduced from its former glory, the demand for independent contractors had all but zeroed out.

Such was the rise and fall of business. There will yet be need for mercenaries with the next wave of political revolution.

But that time is not now — or so Shamir repeatedly reminds Leonie.

Again, stupid.

Leonie groans as Shamir lowers her to the bed. Her eyes flutter open, brightening upon recognition. “Shamir? What are you doing here?”

“Tucking you into bed.”

Her eyebrows furrow. “What happened?”

“You lost a fight.”

“Oh,” Leonie replies glumly. “Was it by a lot or a little?”

“A lot.”

She frowns. “That’s too bad,” she replies, yawning. She stretches her arms up — but then recoils. “Ow, my tummy hurts.”

“Sorry.”

“Hm?” Leonie smiles up at her, seeming to have completely forgotten about the pain. “What are you sorry for?”

Shamir doesn’t reply. She isn’t going to bother explaining when Leonie, judging by the sweet smell of alcohol coming off her breath, isn’t going to remember anything in the morning. She instead begins to methodically pull Leonie’s boots off her feet.

Leonie watches her do this for a moment, eyes half-closed. “You saved me, didn’t you? That’s why you’re here. And you got this room for me, too.”

“Yes.” Shamir pulls the covers over Leonie.

“Thank you,” Leonie says, softly. “You’re always saving me. You’re always there when I need you. Why are you always looking out for me, Shamir?”

Shamir doesn’t answer — mostly because she doesn’t have an answer herself.

“Good night,” Shamir replies instead, turning to exit.

“Wait, wait!” Leonie’s hands pop out from under the blankets, reaching out for her. “Come here.”

Shamir blinks, but nevertheless stops to take a step backwards.

“No… come _closer_ ,” Leonie clarifies, gesturing with her hands.

Shamir takes another step, and Leonie motions at her until Shamir is standing right above her at the bedside.

“I need to tell you something,” she declares.

Shamir waits patiently.

“It’s a _secret_ ,” she whispers, beckoning Shamir to bend down.

Shamir obliges her, and Leonie pulls her down by the back of her head, pushing her face into the crook of Shamir’s neck. Leonie giggles — the heat of her breath on the shell of Shamir’s ear — and says, “Thank you. I must owe you _so much_ now.”

And then she turns her head, open mouth sliding over Shamir’s cheek before pressing her lips into a kiss.

Instinctively, Shamir jerks her head away. Leonie’s lips follow but Shamir pushes her back down to the bed.

“No,” Shamir says, wiping the taste of alcohol off with the back of her hand.

Wide-eyed, Leonie looks at her, distressed. “No?”

“No,” she says, backing away. “Don’t get the wrong idea.”

Before another word is exchanged, Shamir hurries out of the room, closing the door behind her, running down the hallway, and catching her breath at the turn of the stairs.

She knew better than to let this happen. Leonie was drunk and vulnerable, and she couldn’t resist Leonie’s needs. All these decisions she made from the beginning of the night… something was _bound_ to go wrong.

She should know better.

Again, stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn. i'm leaving them at such a point of tension.


	3. creatures of habit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt:** goodbyes (200-500 words) from TWDITD of the felannie discord

Shamir never says goodbye to Leonie that night.

She never says goodbye to her anyway.

After all, what’s the point? She’s bound to see Leonie again. She always sees Leonie — drunk and belligerent at the same damn bar, picking fights with the same damn people.

Leonie never changed. A creature of habit.

But also, what’s the point in saying goodbye when Leonie is all that’s going to be on her mind? It’s like she never left her. It’s like she’s still there like she was on that night, the sweet smell of alcohol off her breath and her soft lips on —

Shamir blinks the thoughts away, focusing instead on the ripe fruit hanging off the neighboring tree. She whirls the throwing knife around her finger and aims, releasing the fruit at its stem. It falls to the grass below, landing with a dull thud. The knife pierces a spider on the tree trunk beyond, stabbing the center of its thorax.

Shamir sighs, breathing out with an exhale and letting her eyes fall closed. She shifts her body to adjust her body weight on the tree branch, letting a leg hang off.

“Shamir?”

Her eyes flutter open. She doesn’t bother looking down. She knows all she’ll see is orange hair and a worried frown.

“How did you find me?” she simply asks instead.

“You…” Leonie cuts herself off, voice softening. “You’re always here.”

She’s a creature of habit herself, huh? Is there anything else she doesn’t realize about herself?

“What do you want?”

“I just wanted to apologize,” Leonie replies. “I’m sorry about what happened last night. All of it.”

Shamir says nothing.

“And I wanted to thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry I was an idiot, and I’m sorry I crossed a line. I guess… I misunderstood our relationship.”

At the word, Shamir furrows her eyebrows.

“I also wanted to give you this. I owe you for all the times you took care of me.”

Shamir hears the familiar cling of coins. She turns her head, seeing Leonie wrestle a pouch out of her pocket. Leonie looks up at her, meeting her eyes, and lifts the money above her head, offering it to her.

“I’m not taking it,” Shamir replies, turning her gaze back up to the sky. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“Shamir, I’m really sorry about—”

“I don’t want apologies from you either,” she interrupts.

She takes a deep breath in and sighs, sitting up and dropping down to the ground to face Leonie. Leonie extends the coin pouch in her direction again, but Shamir backs away from it.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Shamir says. “I help you because I want to. I don’t need you to return any money or favors for it.”

She turns away, deciding that maybe it’s time to find a new spot to find respite.

“Don’t follow me,” she says, walking away.

She doesn’t say goodbye to Leonie.

She doesn’t imagine she ever will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seiros help me because i don't know where i'm going with this story

**Author's Note:**

> i'm hibernating in preparation for femslash february but please poke me to make sure i'm alive:
> 
> twitter @ napsbeforesleep  
> tumblr @ ahumanintraining


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